The Asimov Project
by Sly M. Cogan
Summary: My take on the first meeting between Lupin and Zenigata and the origins of Lupin's gang. When Lupin and Jigen turn their eyes to top secret research, it leads to a clash between the world's greatest thief, fastest gun, sharpest blade, sexiest femme fatale, and most determined cop.
1. Koichi Zenigata and Arsene Lupin III

_**A/N – Similar to my ongoing Bioshock fanfic (which, I swear, I'm still planning to finish), this is my dream of how, if Hollywood ever came to me, or, better yet, if I ever had the clout to go to Hollywood, exactly I would tell them to make the "Lupin the Third" movie. To prevent anyone else from ruining it. **_

_**I'm calling this "The Asimov Project" because, for one thing, I think "Lupin the Third: The Movie" is a lame title for a fanfic. For another, because this is an original plot, although I plan on borrowing heavily from the manga and anime here and there.**_

_**You could probably count my favorite characters from anime or manga on two hands, and the five main characters from Lupin III take up one of them. There have been some drastically different portrayals of the characters, from Monkey Punch's original manga to the red jacket series of the anime to Hayao Miyazaki's "The Castle of Cagliostro" to the current series "The Woman Called Fujiko Mine" (which I highly recommend). My versions of Lupin, Jigen, Goemon, et al are a combination of some of my favorite character traits pulled from previous versions of the characters, somewhere between the happy-go-lucky bandits of the anime and the sneering crooks of the manga. One thing I'll be taking from Monkey Punch is a certain edge the characters had: they could be the best of friends one issue and out to kill each other in the next. But they were always cool enough that, one issue later, they'd be paling around again as if nothing had happened (and in Monkey Punch's loose continuity, it might not have.)**_

_**With that said, please imagine the lights dimming and the studio logos of your choice fading in and out as the opening notes of "Zenigata's March" play . . .**_

* * *

It was raining in London. Not an unusual occurrence. A puddle had formed on the pavement wide and deep enough to reflect the well-lit Woodcut Manor as clearly as if a naked eye were looking directly at it. Now the puddle was filled with the reflection of the flashing lights on top of a squad of police cars, the sound of their sirens filling the air as they screeched to a noisy halt in front of the mansion.

The inspector stepped out of his car and directly into the puddle. Even the high-collared raincoat and wide-brimmed hat he wore couldn't stop stray rain drops from streaking across his face. But he marched confidently to the door as if he didn't feel them, his eyes steely gray beads of determination above his lantern jaw.

He pounded on the manor door, flanked by constables, and when a hunched over old butler opened it, the inspector barely flashed his badge before pushing him out of his way.

"Koichi Zenigata, Interpol."

* * *

He marched into the mansion's main hall, the indignant butler right behind him. The room full of partygoers in formal wear hushed as the inspector barged in.

_Keep your back straight_, Zenigata reminded himself. He repeated the phrase over and over. He had a bad habit of hunching himself when he was nervous. And right now, he needed to display all the authority he could muster.

Sir Matthew Franklyn Woodcut strode up to the throng of policemen who had invaded his domicile, the crowd parting as he made his way to the center of the room.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The inspector flashed his badge again.

"Inspector Koichi Zenigata. Interpol."

"How does my daughter's twenty-first birthday concern the ICPO? And don't you need a warrant?"

"I have one." Zenigata pulled a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his raincoat. "An arrest warrant. For a known criminal that I believe has crashed your daughter's birthday party."

Sir Matthew's jaw dropped, and he stepped back as Zenigata eyed the party crowd suspiciously.

"A party crasher? Who?"

"Ever heard of Arsene Lupin III?"

* * *

Upstairs, the newly twenty-one Hazel Woodcut was caught in the mad embrace of a brute in a bright red sports coat. _If only her father and his boring friends knew she'd met the one interesting person at the party, and that they'd snuck off to have a little party of their own._

He was built like a gorilla, the red jacket about two sizes too small for him, and his big hands were groping her tightly enough to leave bruises, his thick lips pushing hard enough to swell up her mouth.

* * *

"Lupin the Third?" It was now clear that Inspector Zenigata had Sir Matthew's full attention. "The notorious criminal that's in the news all the time?"

"Unless you know of another Lupin," Zenigata said.

He scanned the crowd again. A silver haired old lady was nearly spilling her flute of champagne, her hand was trembling so hard. Nearby, a bookworm wearing thick Coke bottle glasses and an ugly tweed jacket was whispering nervously to his neighbors, a young couple who were probably the only guests invited by Hazel instead of her father.

"You really think he's here?" someone asked.

"I'm the world's greatest authority on Lupin. I've tracked the little weasel across four continents. And I have it on good authority that he's definitely here tonight."

* * *

Upstairs, the rogue in the red jacket pushed Hazel into her bedroom wall, right next to the full-length mirror.

For the first time, Hazel tried pushing him away.

"Be a little more gentle with me."

Instead, the man in the red jacket whipped Hazel around and shoved her into her bed.

* * *

_Keep your back straight. Don't slouch. Keep your back . . ._

"You mean you've actually seen him?"

Zenigata deflated. His hunch was now more obvious than the butlers, and one hand immediately went to the back of his neck to scratch it.

"Well, no." He tried to straighten up a little. "I mean, no one has. Not his real face anyway. Lupin's a master of disguise."

Finally forcing himself to stand up tall again, Zenigata recaptured the room with a point of a finger.

"He could be anyone. He could be . . . _you!_"

He waived the finger at the silver haired lady, who poured her champagne all over the floor.

"Or you."

A tall, gangly figure with more hair in his handlebar mustache than on the top of his head backed up and nearly tripped over the short, rotund figure behind him.

"Or even you."

The man in the Coke bottle glasses and tweed jacket fainted, two party guests quick to catch him before he hit the ground.

"Get that man out of here," Sir Matthew said, gesturing at the bookworm. The butler helped lead a small group who carried the man away.

* * *

Hazel flailed at the gorilla in the red jacket as he climbed on top of her.

"Let me go."

He kissed her again, scraping his stubble against her neck.

"Give me the data," he growled into her ear.

"Please," Hazel said. "Please. I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Asimov Project," the man in the red jacket responded, flipping open a switchblade.

* * *

"Lupin's here, all right," Zenigata was saying. "And, rest assured, he's not leaving until he gets exactly what he came for."

* * *

The man had Hazel pinned down with one massive hand while the other led the knife, slicing through the top button on her blouse, then the next, revealing the frill of the pink brassiere beneath, and the chain of a necklace that had been tucked beneath.

"Get off me," she said. "Stop!"

The blade sliced through the next button. Every part of Hazel tensed as the knife began to slice through the threads holding the next button in place . . .

Then the blade stopped. It jerked to the side as the big man in the red jacket fell out of the bed. A dart was jutting noticeably off the side of his neck.

From the bed, Hazel could just see the silhouette cast on her wall of a thin man lowering a blow gun, then shaking with a weasely little laugh.

"_Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh."_

Hazel stood up and edged around to get a look at her rescuer.

He was tossing a pair of thick glasses and a tweed coat to the floor.

"Th-that man," Hazel said, toeing the unconscious figure on her floor. "He's Lupin the Third?"

The man who had taken off the tweed jacket shook his head.

"No. That's not Lupin."

He was taller than he'd looked at first, and slender. Good looking, but definitely not in a Hollywood leading man sort of way. As the man in the red jacket had an ape like appearance, this man did as well, though he looked more like an orangutan than a gorilla. The appearance was aided by a pair of thick sideburns that ran down the man's angular jaw and nearly touched his chin.

"Who is he, then?"

The newcomer bent over the man on the floor.

"I don't know. Just some punk." He took the man's red jacket off. "Pretty good sense of fashion, though."

He slipped into the jacket, which actually fit him much better than the gorilla. He turned to the full length mirror to admire the fact.

"Well, whoever you are," Hazel said, "thank you. If you hadn't come, I don't know what . . ."

She stopped when she noticed the long barrel of the Walther P-38 pointed at her.

"Now, my dear," the man who was now wearing the bright red jacket said, "I'm going to need you to hand over that data on the Asimov Project."

"Of course." Hazel looked from the man with the gun to the man with the dart in his neck. "Your partner?"

"No. He's not my type." He smiled. "You would be, under nicer circumstances."

Hazel almost didn't even feel frightened. His voice was pleasant and polite. He was being as much a gentleman as anyone can be while pointing a gun at you.

He kept the gun trained on her as he circled her, bringing his back closer to the bedroom window. Hazel slowly pivoted, keeping her eyes on the gun.

"You see, there's only one Lupin the Third . . ."

Heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs, and a man in a high-collared raincoat and wide-brimmed fedora burst through the door, followed by several anxious constables and a very pale Sir Matthew Woodcut.

The inspector looked incredulously from the discarded tweed jacket and glasses to the man with the gun.

"You're Lupin?"

"In the flesh!"

The inspector pulled a gun and flashed his badge.

"Inspector Zenigata, Interpol. You're under arrest!"

"Nice to finally meet you, Inspector," Arsene Lupin III said, climbing up on Hazel's windowsill. "Love to stay and chat, but I've got to fly."

With that, Lupin grabbed the exposed chain around Hazel's neck and tugged, the necklace breaking and leaving the pendant in Lupin's fist, a simple flash drive. And then he stretched out his hands and dove backwards . . . into a tree.

The police ran to the window and watched as Lupin fell through the tree, yelping as he managed to crash into every branch on the way down before landing in a thick tangle of bushes.

* * *

Outside, policemen surrounded the bushes, pointing guns at the spot they'd seen Lupin land. But they started backing away when they heard a nearby engine rev up.

They ran when a banana yellow sports car burst out of the bushes.

The car sped through the yard and down the front drive, straight through the center of the fleet of police cars. The constables scrambled to get behind the wheels, many of them only managing to crash their squad cars into each other as the yellow car faded further and further into the distance.

Zenigata ran out the front door, firing a few frustrated shots from his pistol into the air. They collided impotently with pavement and trees, far from where the car was.

And Lupin the Third just juggled his newly acquired flash drive with one hand, satisfied in a job well done.

* * *

_**A/N – Up next, Daisuke Jigen . . .**_


	2. Daisuke Jigen

_Disclaimer – I own no rights to any of the characters or trademarks herein, and I'm not planning on stealing them._

**True-angel7 – **_**Thanks for your review. Hopefully it only gets better from here.**_

* * *

Fumio Machii was sitting beneath the parasol of a table on a hill overlooking Woodcut Manor, an anonymous bodyguard to his left and an American, pale as chalk and tall and thin as a rail, to his right. All three were staring holes into Sir Matthew.

"Let me say this one more time, to make sure I understand," Machii said. He paused between each word, letting his rumbling voice and almost sing-song cadence accentuate each one. "_Your_ research on _my _project was taken from you, at a frivolous party, by a common thief."

"No, Mr. Machii!" Sir Matthew insisted. He was starting to tremble, standing up before Machii and his men, his back to his estate. "Not just any common thief. This man was Lupin III."

"A name I may have heard before," Machii said, stopping to rub his neatly trimmed goatee and take a sip from the tall glass of tea in front of him.

"They say he's a master thief. Maybe even the greatest in the entire world. What was I supposed . . .?"

Machii cleared his throat, and Sir Matthew turned as pale as Machii's American companion.

"I cannot control Lupin's actions," he said. "Lupin does not work for me. But you . . . you I've given good money. I can be very disappointed in you."

"I still have the research," Sir Matthew said. He looked at the blades of grass at his feet, no longer able to keep contact with Fumio Machii's intense stare. "All the man has is a back-up on a flash drive."

"Of research that is supposed to be the exclusive property of Machii Robotics." Machii finished his tea and stood up from the table, then slowly made his way around to Sir Matthew. "Other than this intrusion, how was your party, Sir Matthew? How is your lovely daughter? She is twenty-one now, correct?"

Sir Matthew raised his head quickly.

"If you hurt Hazel . . ."

Machii put a hand on Sir Matthew's shoulder, and the English gentleman screamed.

Machii just shook his head and patted the shoulder.

"Do not look at me like I am the villain in some spy thriller, Sir Matthew. Once the Asimov Project is assembled, I need you to perform the procedure."

* * *

It was a busy night in the neon-blue lit nightclub in Tokyo, the murmur of the crowd just an indistinct hum, nearly drowned out by the syncopated rhythm of the music playing.

A ridiculously grinning figure in a loud red jacket, banana yellow necktie over a pitch black dress shirt, and bright white slacks, stumbled from the bar, martini in hand, and collided into a sexy young woman with bleached hair, spilling his cocktail over her cocktail dress.

"Watch it!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man in the red jacket slurred. "Let me make it up to you. I'll buy your next drink."

She just flipped her short hair and started to walk by, but the man put an arm across her chest to stop her.

"Let me buy you that drink. I insist."

She tried to push away, but he just wrapped the arm around her.

"You might as well let me buy you that drink. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

"_I believe the lady wants to be left alone_."

The new voice was as steady and even as a whisper, but loud enough to be heard above the throbbing beats.

The man in the red jacket turned, letting the girl walk away. The speaker was definitely American. His outfit seemed more appropriate for a Chicago jazz club than a Tokyo dance club. But he definitely didn't give the out-of-place impression of a typical tourist. Definitely an ex-pat who'd lived in the country long enough to become as comfortable with his surrounding as the natives, but with a confident appearance that seemed like he could be just as comfortable no matter which continent he was on.

His suit was jet black, and a wide-brimmed fedora, of the type that had long fell from commonplace, was slanted across his nose, completely concealing his eyes. A long-beard jutted and curved so that the tip pointed to the brim of the hat.

"You'll stay out of this," the man in the red jacket said, lifting the corner of his jacket so the other man could see his Walther in its holster, "if you know what's good for you."

"You could get in a lot of trouble," the other man said, lifting the corner of his suit coat so the man in the red jacket could see his own holster, and the Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum in it, "carrying that around here."

"Perhaps we'd better take this outside."

* * *

The nearest throng of the surrounding mob followed the two men into the alley outside and gathered around as the two men stretched.

The man in red threw the first punch, a right jab that twisted the man in the fedora's head back.

The man in the fedora responded with a left jab that twisted the man in red's head back.

The man in red tackled his opponent, driving him into a wall. The other man wheezed and then brought an elbow down into the man in red's shoulder.

When the man in red dropped, he kicked the man in the fedora in the shin.

As the man in the fedora hopped around on one foot, grabbing his hurt leg, the man in red deftly moved away and rose back to his feet. He laughed defiantly.

The other man's fist came out of nowhere and caught him in the nose.

He returned the punch.

A right jab.

A left jab.

And then both men wound up to swing at the same time, instead losing their balance and swaying into the full bags of trash that had overflowed from the nearest dumpster.

The crowd dispersed as the two fighters lied wheezing where they had fallen.

When everyone had disappeared, both men managed weak chuckles.

The man in red extended his hand.

"Nice to see you again, Jigen."

Daisuke Jigen shook the hand. His other hand went into his coat pocket for a box of Pell Mells. He fished a cigarette that already looked like a dogend out with his teeth and started it with a disposable lighter lying in the trash beneath him.

"Finally made it back to Tokyo, huh? What brings you?"

"Work," Lupin replied. "You on a job right now?"

"Between jobs at the moment. Why?"

"Thought I could cut you in on this thing I'm doing right now."

Jigen stood up, brushed his suit off, and helped Lupin to his feet.

"Let's discuss it back at my apartment. This place cuts their bourbon too much."

* * *

Daisuke Jigen pulled a handle of whiskey from a drawer in his apartment and poured it over two glasses of ice, then handed one glass to Arsene Lupin III and clinked their glasses together.

"_Kampai._"

They took a long pull on their glasses. Jigen took his drink smooth and easy, not showing any reaction while Lupin coughed.

"So," Jigen said, "new jacket?"

"Picked it up in London. Why? You like the green one better?"

"I kinda preferred the pink."

He grinned. Lupin turned away.

"That was a mistake, and I thought we agreed never to bring it up again."

"Enough about your new wardrobe. What's this job you wanna bring me in on?"

Lupin pulled out his smart phone and adjusted the projector on the back. Soon, the image of Fumio Machii was spread across Jigen's apartment wall.

"I think I've heard of this guy," Jigen said. "Machii. His old man was some kinda big kingpin in the Yakuza, right?"

The image changed to newspaper articles confirming what Jigen said.

"Until he had a massive stroke, turning him into a total vegetable," Lupin said. The slide changed to a younger Fumio Machii. "Then his son went legitimate. Supposedly, anyway. Graduated from Osaka University. Started Machii Robotics, one of the most successful and technologically advanced robotic companies in Japan, probably the biggest in the world."

The slide switched to profiles of Fumio Machii, now in his fifties, two other men, and a woman.

"Machii has been working on a top-secret project with three other leading experts in their fields. Vincent Chung, Benjamina Carson, and Sir Matthew Woodcut."

"I heard you dropped in on Doc Woodcut a couple days ago," Jigen interrupted. "Had some Interpol cop chase you away, though."

Lupin slyly pulled Hazel Woodcut's necklace up from beneath his shirt and plugged the flash drive into the phone. Now the images were clinical shots of messy cadavers, anatomical diagrams, and complex mathematical equations.

Jigen took another sip of his bourbon.

"So this is the Asimov Project. What is it?"

"Hell if I know. I'm a thief, not a scientist. But industrial espionage is big business. We get our hands on the other three pieces of data, we stand to make millions on the black market."

Jigen finished his glass and went to pour another.

"You need a refill?"

Lupin took another tiny sip.

"I'm still working on the first one."

"So what about this Interpol inspector?" Jigen said, fixing his drink. "Not like you to get caught in the middle of the job."

"First of all, I finished the job," Lupin said. "Secondly, Interpol was tipped-off I would be there."

"And how were they tipped off?"

"They received a note," Lupin said. Jigen went pale under his fedora when Lupin cleared his throat to recite. "_Dear Interpol, I hear Dr. Woodcut is having quite the shindig for his pretty daughter at his mansion in England. Still haven't got my invitation though. Must have got lost in the mail. Don't bother sending me another one. This is my RSVP. Hope to see you there. Love . . ."_

"No," Jigen said. The surprise on his face was obvious even with his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. "You didn't."

"_Lupin the Third_."

"You tipped the ICPO off about your own job? Why?"

"This inspector, Zenigata, has been trying to sniff me out for over a year now. I wanted to finally meet him face-to-face." Lupin stretched out over Jigen's sofa. "Besides, I'm third-generation gentleman burglar. You don't know what that's like. My father and my grandfather were both chased after by the greatest deductive geniuses of their time. If I don't have a nemesis worthy of hunting me down, if this job gets too easy, there's no point in me doing it anymore."

"And this Zenigata. You think he's a worthy nemesis?"

"Too soon to say. I looked in his eyes, though, and I think there's some potential there."

"There's just one more thing I don't get." Jigen took a swallow of his fresh glass of whiskey. "You've been out of the technological espionage game for a long time now. You're mostly about the bling these days. Why go after this?"

Lupin stood up again and, clenching his jaw with determination, projected another series of images.

"Fumio Machii may claim to not be following in his father's footsteps, but he likes to invest the money from his robotics company into some _questionable_ projects."

The series of images showed Machii in scenes with human traffickers, mercenaries, and drug dealers, and even some shots of Machii committing other acts of atrocity himself.

Lupin looked over at Jigen. Without being able to see the eyes under the hat, he still knew Jigen long enough to read the subtle emotions in his mouth and chin. Though Jigen seemed completely stone-faced, Lupin could see the righteous indignation growing in him, the same disgust he felt himself. And he knew that beneath the black suit beat the heart of a tarnished white knight.

"And I figure," he continued, "if Machii wants to give his hard-earned money to criminals, why not us?"

Jigen, still outwardly calm, took another sip.

"Why the hell not? Count me in."

* * *

_**A/N – When I get around to writing the next chapter, I'll be bringing another one of the classic characters into the action. Guess who?**_


	3. The Woman Called Fujiko Mine

_Disclaimer – I own no rights to Lupin III or the related character, but I am always looking to increase the number of Lupin III DVD's I do own._

**A/N – **_**I can't believe it's been almost a year since the last time I updated this. Guess I got a little distracted by other things. To those of you who have reviewed and favorited since the last chapter, thank you. With the Blu-Ray/DVD release of "The Woman Called Fujiko Mine" just around the corner, I was finally motivated to update this, even if it is just another small chapter. But it is a small chapter introducing a pretty key player, and I mean "pretty" in more ways than one.**_

* * *

"Machii Robotics main HQ, huh?" Jigen said, studying the imposing building from his seat at the park across from the entrance.

"Yep," Lupin responded, before slurping up another noodle from the cup he'd bought at a nearby stand.

"Security's gotta be freakin' ridiculous. I mean, being responsible for some cutting edge technology, they've got to have some pretty advanced stuff."

"Just the usual stuff, really. Laser trip wires. Security cameras, most of them hidden, capable of rotation 360 degrees. Pressure sensors under the carpet in Machii's office. Once they're activated, an ant can't set foot in there without setting off an alarm."

He passed Jigen his phone, discretely showing him the blueprints and security notes he'd photographed with it. Jigen didn't bother asking Lupin how he'd had the opportunity. He already knew Lupin was well-connected, and also possibly resourceful enough to dig them up by himself.

"Usual, huh?" Jigen replied, frowning.

"But all completely worthless," Lupin said, tapping a corner of the blueprint with his finger tip, "without human security guards watching the monitors or activating security."

The blueprint zoomed in to a room labeled "Security."

"Everything's controlled from that one room," Lupin continued. "Lasers, cameras, even door locks." He dragged his finger across the screen, dragging the image until Jigen could read "Private elevator." "That's our last obstacle. That elevator shaft is the only way into Machii's private office on the top floor. Machii usually opens it by scanning his left palm print. But in the event that the scanner is offline, two keys are required to manually override it. One belonging only to Machii, the other to his head of security."

"So how are we getting in?"

"Machii's hosting a big event inside tomorrow night, to show off some of the new research he's working on to investors and members of the press. Most of the human security will be stationed around the reception hall to make sure none of the guests wander off and try peeking around the building. It's the perfect diversion."

"But what happens after we're inside?"

"I really hadn't thought that far ahead."

"You hadn't _what_?"

"I wasn't sure whether or not I'd talk you into helping. Didn't want to waste the brain-power figuring out how to do all this single-handed if it was going to end up being a two-man job."

"So you're saying rather than planning ahead, we've got just over 24 hours to put this entire operation together?" Jigen waited angrily for a response. "Lupin? Are you even paying attention to me?"

"Nope."

Jigen turned to follow Lupin's gaze. His friend's mouth was agape as he stared at a young woman among a throng of tourists in the park.

Even Jigen had to admit she was beautiful. Dark, almond shaped eyes, smoldering beneath thick eyelashes, even from a distance. Elegantly defined cheek bones. Full, pouty red lips. Long brunette hair flowing like silk over her shoulders, dangling just above her breasts, drawing attention to her incredibly feminine curves.

As she came closer, it was easier to see that her clothes were dirty and clingy, and her makeup was mussed. Her eyes were anxiously scanning the park. She ran the last few steps to where Lupin and Jigen were sitting.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she said demurely. "But you have such friendly faces, and I so desperately need someone to help me."

"O-o-of course," Lupin stammered. He shook his head, trying to snap out of his daze, and straightened his back, trying hard to put on an easy-going appearance. "What can I do to y—I mean for you?"

She eyed what was left of the cup of noodles next to Lupin's hand.

"It's been so long since I've even had something to eat."

Lupin pushed the cup towards the girl. She nodded to acknowledge her gratitude and began sipping the broth from the cup.

"I'm just so hungry," she said. "Though I probably should be watching my figure."

"That's all right," Lupin said, eying her more attentively as she ate. "I'll watch it for you."

Jigen gave him a quick swat on the back of the head, eliciting a whiny "ow."

"Ma'am, what is it that's happened to you?"

"Thieves!" the woman exclaimed loudly, causing both Lupin and Jigen to look around, frightened, for exits as the crowd seemed to notice them. "Robbers!"

"_Have we been made?"_ Jigen wondered.

The woman clutched the lapels of his jacket.

"I was just visiting the city. I'm not from around here. I know I shouldn't have been out walking alone at night, but everything was just so beautiful . . ." She began to sob. "These thugs attacked me . . . stole my purse. I don't have enough money to take the train back home, or even buy myself something to eat." She turned to Lupin, putting her hand on top of his. Lupin's free hand began tugging at the collar of his shirt as sweat dripped down his brow. "I just don't feel safe by myself. You both look so sweet and strong . . . Maybe you could escort me to the police station?"

"_No_!" Lupin and Jigen both blurted simultaneously.

"Oh," the woman said, her pout deepening in disappointment. "I'm sorry to bother you, then . . ."

She turned around to walk away.

"No! Wait!" Lupin called out.

She turned back again. Lupin reached into the red jacket and pulled out a small wad of bills.

"It's not much, but it should be enough to pay your train fare, maybe grab a quick bite and something to drink."

Jigen groaned, but he reached into his wallet and fished out a few bills for her as well.

"You two are angels! Thank you both so much!"

She hugged Jigen tightly before he could say anything, squeezing him so tightly he could barely budge from her grip, then turned to Lupin and embraced him as well, planting a scarlet kiss on his cheek.

Then she pranced away, turning once to blow kisses before disappearing back into the crowd.

"What a sweet girl," Lupin said, slurring and swaying like he was intoxicated. "And we'll probably never see her again."

Jigen stood up, stretched, and then began digging through his pockets.

"My wallet's gone," he said.

Lupin quickly stood up, staring at Jigen, and checked for his wallet as well.

"Mine too," he said. "Dammit. She pickpocketed us."

* * *

Fujiko smiled at her reflection in the well-polished glass of the nearest building. A few quick swabs with a tissue, and the make-up she'd put on sloppily to give the effect of a distraught damsel was as neat and proper as any of the other women's around. The stained clothes would still have to do until she made it back to her room to change, but they looked great on her. The dirt and water just made them cling more tightly to her curves. Curves that turned most men, and some women, into drooling idiots.

Every man she'd ever met shared one weakness, and its name was Fujiko Mine.

She began counting the cash she'd taken from her two latest marks when she noticed their reflections behind her own.

She turned, still flashing the same confident smile, even as the thuggish man in the fedora snatched his wallet back from her hand.

"Don't you have any idea who you're dealing with?" he asked.

"Yes," Fujiko responded, still smiling. "I mean, _you_ I don't know. But _you . . ."_

She turned to the man in the red jacket, eyes wide in admiration.

"_You're Lupin the Third!"_

"You've heard of me, then?" Lupin said, flushing almost as deep of a red as his jacket.

"Of course I have. The world's most wanted thief, Arsene Lupin III. According to legend, the grandson of notorious criminal Arsene Lupin. Though thought by some to be an alias, as Arsene Lupin is considered by most to be a fictional character, invented in 19th century France by author Maurice . . ."

"That's it. I don't have to take this," Lupin said, turning to walk away, the thuggish man at his side.

Fujiko grabbed Lupin's arm, freezing him in place.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I'm actually a huge fan of yours. Don't you see? That's why I took your wallets. I was just trying to impress you. My name is Fujiko Mine, and I've always dreamed of working with the great Lupin the Third."

She turned to Jigen.

"And who's your friend?"

"Oh, him?" Lupin said dizzily. "No one important."

She offered Lupin his wallet, but he waved it away.

"I don't need the money back," he said. "You've earned it."

"I think I'll keep mine," the man in the fedora insisted, making a show of placing it back in his inside jacket pocket.

"Miss Fujiko Mine," Lupin said, "how would you like a job?"

The other man pushed his fedora back, just so Lupin and Fujiko could both see the shock in his eyes.

* * *

**A/N_ – As Lupin himself might say, _"Looks like the gang's all here! Time to pull one over on Fumio Machii. He'll never know what hit him . . . if he doesn't hit me first! Inspector Zenigata will be there, and so will this guy with a sword . . . but you're just going to have to keep reading to find out about that. The next chapter will be called _'Domo Arigato, Mr. Robot-Show'!_ See ya then."**


	4. Domo Arigato, Mr Robot-Show

_Disclaimer – I own no rights to any of the characters or trademarks herein, and I'm not planning on stealing them._

* * *

Fumio Machii had amassed a squad of personal bodyguards from all around the world. But among them, only one was almost as feared by the others as Machii himself.

Tonight, he was dressed identically to the rest of Machii's staff on hand for the exposition, from waiters to body guards to bartenders. A white necktie and suspenders over a black dress shirt and slacks, the only exception being Machii's right-hand man, the pale American. He was dressed in his ice cream colored suit and wide-brimmed hat, as usual.

This other man was Japanese, like a majority of the people in the room, though he had a more striking aura than anyone else around him. His ebony hair, tied back into a long pony tail, glistened with every step under the auditorium's lights.

He was a few inches short of six feet, but he carried himself like an even taller man. Yet, his movements were so subtle and graceful, he seemed to be gliding rather than walking. The others sensed a presence constantly behind him, the shadow of death. His face was a mask of solemnity, no expression crossing his lips. But his eyes made the others tremble, for rather than looking at their appearance, he seemed to be staring straight into their souls.

* * *

"The American gentleman you see before you we shall refer to only as 'John Smith'," Fumio Machii announced before the hushed crowd in black tie attire. He gestured towards a muscular figure on the dais beside him. "Imprisoned for a series of assault charges in his younger days. A model prisoner, he had his sentence shortened by many years for good behavior. But not before a prison yard rival attempted to cut his right arm off with a shiv made of bed springs and a tin cup."

The man called John Smith lifted his right arm. It was bare, covered in scars up to the elbow. Beyond that point, the flesh had a strange gleam. The more the spotlight played off it, the more it became apparent that it wasn't actually flesh, but something that had the appearance of human skin. Small lights flashed down the side of his hand, and tiny wires ran from the wrist and disappeared behind the man's back.

"This is only a taste of what Machii Robotics hopes to accomplish in the field of cybernetic prosthetics."

Machii waved an arm, and John Smith silently moved to a table. He lifted a rock, about the size of a grapefruit, and wrapped his fingers tightly around it. The rock turned to tiny pieces of gravel which dropped through the fingers to the floor.

"And yet delicate enough to perform the simple functions we take for granted each day."

The crowd gasped as the man with the cybernetic hand opened a cage on the table and allowed a small rabbit to emerge. The man wrapped his fingers around the rabbit.

When he opened his fingers, palm up, and revealed the rabbit rubbing gently against them, the entire crowd let its collective breath out.

And then there was a roaring applause.

* * *

The two security guards standing on the stoop in front of the back entrance didn't see the men dressed in black catsuits emerge from the darkness. They blended in so well with the night, the guards were unaware of their presence until the two men were standing on either side of the railing. Then the guards were each pulled over opposite rails and knocked unconscious.

Lupin and Jigen leaped over the railing, staying close enough to the wall to avoid the nearest security camera's line of sight, and entered the Machii Robotics building.

* * *

Fumio Machii was making his way through the crowd, answering investors' questions, when he spotted security talking to a disheveled young woman. She was dressed casually, in dirty, clingy clothes, her makeup wet and smudged.

"What's going on here?" Machii asked when he approached the guard and the young woman.

"She doesn't have an invitation," the guard replied.

The girl stumbled into Machii, then seemed to struggle to find a grip on him she could use to regain her balance.

"Please help me," she said. "I didn't mean to crash your party. I'm just a tourist visiting the city. I knew I shouldn't have been walking outside alone at night, but everything was just so beautiful . . . and then it started raining and now I'm stranded here, without an umbrella, miles away from my hotel. My cell phone's all out of batteries. If you could just let me use your phone to call for a ride . . ."

Machii steadied her, then stepped back to straighten his outfit.

"Very well," he said calmly. He turned to the security guard. "Escort the lady to the security room. She can use the phone and wait for her car in there."

"Yes, sir," the security guard acknowledged.

Machii dismissed himself and turned back to his guests.

Fujiko smiled as the guard led her to the security room.

* * *

The head of security was a middle aged man, already mostly bald, and definitely out of shape.

_An easy target_, Fujiko thought. He turned away from the security monitors when the other guard repeated Fujiko's story to him.

That's when Fujiko seemed to trip over her own feet and fall into him.

"I'm sorry," she said, again appearing to find a spot to place her hands on the man she had fallen into that would help her regain her balance. "I'm just so clumsy tonight."

The other guard left. It was just Fujiko and the head of security in a tiny room filled with surveillance monitors and control panels.

The head of security gestured towards the phone. Fujiko dialed a random series of numbers, waited a couple of rings, and then began talking into the receiver as it was still ringing.

"Hello? I'm so glad I got a hold of you. It's me. I was out walking and it started raining . . ."

Someone had picked up on the other end and was repeatedly trying to tell her she had the wrong number. Fujiko hoped the security guard wasn't paying too much attention to the display on the phone indicating she had someone on the other line. She wouldn't be able to keep this stranger talking to her much longer.

"Yes? Uh-huh . . ."

She casually slipped a hand over the security desk, through the small slot in a glass panel designed for exchanging credentials, and laid the sets of keys she had found on Machii and the head of security on the small ledge outside it.

A hand reached up and snatched both sets of keys.

* * *

Lupin and Jigen, dressed in their skintight catsuits from chin to toe, Jigen still wearing the fedora low over his eyes, turned a corner of the taupe corridors and then pulled their thermal goggles down over their eyes.

They were standing an inch from a field of lasers, crisscrossing each other from all angles like a child scribbling with a red crayon, some even moving, tracing various arcs across the beige carpet.

They stood still and waited.

* * *

"I'm soaking wet," Fujiko complained.

Her shapely fingers worried at the top buttons of her dirty shirt.

"Do you have something dry I could change into?" she asked sweetly.

The security guard couldn't keep his eyes away from her now exposed cleavage. He tore himself away and rooted through a nearby closet, coming back with a spare security uniform.

She undid the next button.

The head of security blushed and turned around, giving her a moment of privacy.

"Thank you so much," Fujiko said.

Then she turned to the panel and flipped every switch as quickly as she could. She saw the laser field disappear just before the next flip blacked out that monitor.

* * *

Lupin and Jigen watched the lasers flicker and fade, then waited a moment to make sure they didn't flash back on.

"All right. Let's go."

* * *

It was a difficult task, trying to move her body to hide what one hand was doing while putting on the oversized security uniform with the other. The head of security might have seemed like he was being the perfect gentleman, but she couldn't count on him not looking around and staring at her, or even just sneaking a peak at her in her underwear, while her back was turned.

After he'd given her more than enough time to put the uniform on, Fujiko turned back around and tried to smooth it out. It was hard to look appealing in the drab gray uniform of the Machii Robotics building, especially one several sizes too large for her. She left it mostly unbuttoned, tying it off tightly above her belly button.

When the security guard turned back around, she posed seductively on top of the control panel, flipping the final switch while the guard's eyes were glued to her abdomen.

But then the guard looked up, and too quickly realized that the security monitors were all dark.

"Did I hit a button or something?" Fujiko asked, trying to feign cherubic innocence. "I told you, I'm so clumsy tonight."

The guard hastily pushed her legs down from the panel and begin flipping the switches back again. Fujiko just watched and bit her lip.

* * *

Lupin's foot was in midair when the red laser field flickered back on, one laser right beneath his lifted leg, another directly under Jigen's nose.

"This is why we leave the goggles on," Lupin said.

Jigen tilted back and shimmied under the laser, his hat brim just barely making it underneath. Meanwhile, Lupin extended his leg as straight as he could and fell forward on it, managing to make it over the laser beneath him and just beneath the laser above his head.

Jigen ducked just as a moving laser shifted towards him. The laser nearly caught Lupin off guard. He managed to throw himself to the ground to avoid it, catching himself on the palms of his hands and tips of his toes just above a set of criss-crossing lasers.

Arching his back, he gradually stretched back to a semi-standing position, just as another shifting laser moved towards Jigen.

Jigen threw himself backwards, catching himself on the palms of his hands before his back could touch another laser tripwire. As Lupin ducked under the laser, he lost his balance, landing across the table formed by Jigen's torso.

The two men stared awkwardly at each other.

"You know, Jigen," Lupin said, after clearing his throat, "you're really flexible."

"Thanks," Jigen responded nervously. "I've been seeing a contortionist."

"Lucky."

* * *

"I see someone," the security guard said, pointing anxiously to one of the monitors.

"Where?" Fujiko said, standing on her tiptoes to cover the monitor with her back.

"There!" the security guard said, pointing to another monitor that showed Lupin and Jigen crawling around a corner, trying to move their hands and feet around lasers while tangled in each other like they were playing a game of Twister.

Fujiko moved her back, and then pointed to another random monitor.

"You're right," she said. "I think I just saw someone."

"Where?" the guard asked, carefully eying the monitor.

"I mean _there,_" Fujiko said, picking out another monitor.

The guard looked again, as Fujiko nervously peeked at the monitor she was trying to conceal. Lupin and Jigen had made very little progress.

"I'd better call for back-up," the head of security said, grabbing his walkie-talkie.

"I guess I can't blame you for being too frightened to check on this yourself."

The guard paused.

"What?"

"You're frightened of the intruder skulking through the halls of your building. I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to leave the safety of this room to face him either." She sighed. "I'm just disappointed, is all. Here, I thought you were really brave . . ."

"I am," the head of security said, straightening up and returning the walkie-talkie to his belt.

"So you're going to take care of that intruder yourself? You're not afraid at all?"

The guard shook his head.

"It's going to take more than one intruder to frighten me. I'm going to go investigate this personally."

"Great," Fujiko said, all smiles. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on everything for you."

The head of security nodded, almost as if _he'd_ forgotten she didn't really belong in the security uniform.

The moment he was out of the room, Fujiko found the switch labeled "Lasers" and flipped it back off.

* * *

The lasers flicked and faded away, and Lupin and Jigen dropped to the ground and rolled away from each other, breathing sighs of relief.

They stood up and sprinted the rest of the way down the corridor, finally arriving at the elevator.

Jigen was elated. But Lupin looked less than excited.

"What's a matter, Boss?"

"I'm just worried about Fujiko," Lupin said. "So inexperienced. Such an innocent little lamb. And I gave her the hardest role in the whole operation."

Jigen frowned.

"If you really feel that way," he grumbled, "next time she can climb through the lasers, and I'll do the strip-tease for the guards."

Lupin removed his goggles and looked at Jigen's catsuit appraisingly.

"Well, you do have the body for it."

Jigen swatted Lupin.

"Shut up!"

He removed the goggles himself and then each man found the keyhole on either side of the elevator.

"Okay. On three . . . one . . . two . . ."

They each turned their key, then went to work prying the panel doors open.

"I don't get it," Lupin said. "I never took you for a misogynist."

"Do I need to remind you that the first time we met her she gave each of us a sob story and then stole our wallets?"

"She gave them back, though."

"And it's never occurred to you that she might just be planning on screwing you?"

Lupin's eyes glazed over and he began to drool.

"_That's not what I meant and you know it!" _Jigen suddenly lowered his voice. "Wait! Do you hear that?"

Lupin stopped to listen. He heard the gentle thud of footsteps coming down the next corridor.

"Well, here's your chance to give the security guard that lap dance."

Jigen shook his head and unzipped the catsuit. He was wearing a sharp tuxedo underneath, complete with a carnation in the lapel. He took a large swig from a flask in his pocket, and then stumbled around the corner.

"You there! What are you doing?" Lupin could hear the security guard asking.

"Hey, pal," Jigen slurred. "I'm just looking for the men's room. Had a little too much of that champagne, know what I mean?"

"You shouldn't be here! Go back to the reception hall immediately!"

"Can't you help me out? Just show me where the bathroom is."

"You filthy drunk . . ."

"I've been looking for a while now. I'm just guessing here, but I don't think your boss is going to be real happy if I make a mess on his carpet."

"All right. Follow me . . ."

The voices and footsteps grew softer, and once they'd faded completely Lupin allowed himself one of his weaselly little laughs.

_Knew I brought Jigen along for a reason._

He pushed through the security panel in the elevator's ceiling and, once he was on top of the carriage, fired a grappling hook up the shaft.

* * *

Meanwhile, another of Fumio Machii's security guards was leading him into a small room off of the auditorium. The detective was sitting there, waiting for him, dressed in a rumpled trench coat and wide-brimmed hat.

When Machii entered, he immediately leaped to his feet and removed his hat. He was hunched at first, but almost immediately corrected his posture, then flashed his badge.

"Inspector Koichi Zenigata, ICPO."

"This better be important, Inspector," Machii growled.

Zenigata tried to make himself taller.

"I'm here with an arrest warrant for a dangerous criminal," Zenigata insisted. "Arsene Lupin III. I have it on good authority that he's here at your demonstration tonight."

Machii stroked his goatee.

"Of course, it's important that this Lupin be apprehended," he said. "But I'd sooner take my chances with him than have my guests panic. I hope you understand that this exposition is very important to my company. I can't have it disrupted."

Zenigata removed the trench coat. He was wearing a tuxedo underneath. Shabby. Second-hand. Working class. But technically, following the same dress code as everyone in the next room.

"I'll certainly try my best not to be disruptive," he said, not without a hint of contempt in his voice.

A simple gesture from Machii, and Zenigata made his way out of the room and into the crowd.

Machii's ever-present right-hand man, all in white, was now at his shoulder.

"You sure it's a good idea to have some cop sniffing around?"

"He can't hurt us," Machii said. "If he can catch Lupin, he might even be useful to us. And if he turns out to be a problem . . . that shouldn't be difficult for you to take care of."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Lupin held his breath.

_Have to do this exactly right._

Holding a key in each hand, his arms stretched to either side of Fumio Machii's office, Lupin twisted each wrist at the exact same second and unlocked the heavy door.

When it was open, he got a running start and then leaped across the threshhold, catching the back of one of the chairs in front of Machii's desk, keeping his feet off the ground.

He continued his parkour around the office, running across Machii's wall, somersaulting off his desk, stepping nimbly from chair to chair . . .

* * *

Fujiko watched Lupin's acrobatics from the monitor in the security booth.

"Impressive, Lupin," she admitted under her breath.

Then she watched as Lupin missed a trick and fell face first onto the floor.

"But completely unnecessary, since I've disabled the pressure sensors in the office."

* * *

"Ouch."

Lupin painfully pried himself off the office floor, then tried to stretch to work out the resulting kinks in his back.

He then turned his attention to the painting behind Machii's desk.

He eased the painting from the wall as gently as he could, but as soon as he placed it on the floor next to the hidden safe, the frame collapsed. He struggled clumsily with restoring the frame for a few seconds, then just let the canvas collapse to the floor in a heap with the broken frame.

Plugging headphones to his phone, he pulled up an app to magnify sound and then placed it next to the safe's dial. Then he slowly worked the dial, listening carefully for the clicks.

At last, the catch released and the safe door swung open. The sound of the alarm, enhanced through the smart phone app and the headphones, nearly deafened Lupin. He clawed away the earbuds and reached into the safe, grabbing the flash drive clearly labeled "ASIMOV."

In a flash, he'd bounded through the room, repelled down the elevator shaft on his grapple line, and managed to duck around a corner right as a horde of security guards stampeded past.

He abandoned his cat suit, stripping down to an immaculate dinner jacket that put Jigen's to shame, and strolled casually into the reception hall, blending right into the _crème de la crème _of Machii's guests.

* * *

Meanwhile, the head of security returned to the security booth just as Fujiko was trying to leave. He drew a gun and pointed it at her.

Fujiko flushed for a second, then dared herself to slink up to him, so close she knew he could feel her warm breath on his face.

She batted her long lashes and whispered, in her sultriest purr, "You don't really want to shoot me, do you?"

"No," the head of security gulped.

"Good," Fujiko responded, and brought her knee up sharply into the man's groin.

As he writhed in pain on the floor, she untied her shirt, buttoned it properly, and tucked it neatly into the rest of the uniform. Then she grabbed a spare security hat, tucked her long hair into it, and lowered her gaze, blending in with a mob of identically dressed security guards as they thundered past.

* * *

In the reception hall, various translators were assuring Machii's guests there was no need to panic, even as the most intimidating men among those dressed in white neckties and suspenders huddled more closely around Machii.

Lupin quickly found Jigen, who seemed distracted by a face in the crowd.

"Jigen? You look like you just saw a ghost, buddy."

He was staring at the man wearing a cream colored version of his outfit.

"_Vitti_," he said, more to himself than Lupin.

Then Lupin scanned the crowd and spotted a familiar face himself.

"Oh, mommy! Oh, crap!"

Jigen snapped to attention.

"What is it?"

"It's Zenigata."

"Who?"

"Inspector Zenigata. Of Interpol."

As if responding to his own name, Zenigata's eyes lit up, even from across the room, at the top of a crowded staircase filled with investors drinking champagne and eating _hors d'oeuvres. _

"Lupin!" he cried. "Out of my way! That's Lupin!"

Nobody nearby seemed to hear him. He pushed his way through the obstinate crowd as Lupin and Jigen pushed through their own crowd to the exit.

"Lupin! It's Lupin, I tell you!" Zenigata insisted, fighting his way down the stairs as Lupin and Jigen disappeared from the room.

But by the time he made it to the foot of the stairs, Lupin and Jigen were already running through the garden outside.

* * *

**_A/N - To be continued . . ._**


	5. Goemon Ishikawa XIII

_Disclaimer - I own no right to Lupin, Jigen, Fujiko, Goemon, Zenigata, or any other related characters. This fiction is strictly a fan-made tribute._

**_A/N - I've been on a real Lupin kick lately, largely triggered by the announcement that the English dub of _The Woman Called Fujiko Mine_ will be out on DVD & Blu-Ray within the next couple months. Anyone else psyched out of their mind about that? I considered the dub cast behind the Red Jacket series to be the definitive voices for the Lupin characters, in English, anyway, so the fact that Michelle Ruff will be reprising Fujiko . . . Anyway, I digress._  
**

**_Since I've been on my huge Lupin kick, I'm trying to keep these chapters coming to make up for lost time. If anyone's enjoying reading this fic as much as I am writing it, please let me know in the Reviews section._**

* * *

Fumio Machii's bodyguards drew closer to their boss when the burglar alarm sounded, eager to earn their keep. The one most feared among them, the Japanese man, did as well. And though he seemed to be moving the least of them, his mind and eyes were the most active, moving through the entire gala.

When he saw the commotion of two men running through the crowd, a third desperately trying to pursue, he departed from the herd. With far less effort than Inspector Zenigata, he cut through the crowd. As he moved, seemingly gliding, he untied the white necktie and removed his white suspenders, then unbuttoned the black dress shirt. The instant he left the hall, he discarded the uniform, naked except for a _fundoshi_. Soon, the pony tail was undone as well, and his long raven hair was running wild down his back.

Alone in his quarters, he opened his closet and, with practiced speed, he dressed himself in his traditional kimono and _hakama_. He felt naked now. But he had felt naked in his bodyguard uniform as well. It wasn't until he had his sword, Zantetsuken, sheathed at his side, that he felt truly, properly dressed.

While Zenigata was still fighting his way through the reception hall, the most feared of Machii's bodyguards was strolling out into the garden.

* * *

Lupin and Jigen froze in their tracks when they saw the samurai illuminated in the moonlight, the wind blowing his hair around like a cape.

"I am Goemon Ishikawa XIII," the samurai said, his voice as soft as the breeze. "You must return what you have stolen now, or your lives will be forfeit this very night."

The two thieves just laughed.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Jigen said. "A samurai? Where'd you park the time machine?"

"Sengoku Period, unless I miss my guess," Lupin commented. "Jigen, why don't you give him a taste of some modern technology?"

Though Jigen had his Magnum drawn within 0.3 seconds, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He cocked back the hammer and pulled the trigger, and while the bullet was hurtling through the air, Goemon Ishikawa the Thirteenth drew his sword from his sheath. He raised the blade in the air.

Jigen's bullet split in two, both halves landing impotently at Goemon's feet.

Jigen and Lupin blinked incredulously, and then Lupin drew his Walther. He joined Jigen in firing a volley of bullets in Goemon's direction. The blade flashed in the moonlight, deflecting each of the shots. Jigen and Lupin were walking backwards in retreat as they fired now, and when they'd both emptied their rounds, they turned and ran.

They disappeared into a thick tangle of bushes. Goemon's blade flew back and forth, narrowly missing Jigen and Lupin a thousand times, until the bushes were reduced to Lupin- and Jigen- shaped topiaries.

When the two still refused to leave their hiding place, emotion finally entered Goemon's grave face. His nostrils flared. His lips curled. His eyes narrowed and his face flushed.

"You have made me cut something trivial!"

One angry swipe with his sword, and he split the topiary figures from the Lupin- shaped bush's left shoulder to the Jigen- shaped bush's right hip. Slowly, the grass torsos slid from the leafy legs, revealing Lupin and Jigen trembling, still frozen in their topiaries' poses.

The two sprang into another group of bushes, only for Goemon's blade to trim their hiding place down to size once more.

"That blade's got to be getting dull, right?" Lupin asked, frantically leaping behind a stone pillar for refuge, Jigen racing to keep up with him.

Goemon's blade sliced the pillar in two as easily as it had trimmed the bushes.

"There is nothing Zantetsuken cannot cut," Goemon proclaimed.

Lupin jumped back just as the tip of the blade sliced against his side.

"Ha! Missed."

He and Jigen kept moving forward, finally hurdling over Machii's garden wall.

But Goemon was no longer pursuing.

_I never miss_, he thought.

* * *

Safely back in their hideout, Lupin and Jigen were laughing and drinking to their success.

"Did you get a load of that guy?" Lupin said. "His hair was prettier than Fujiko's!"

Jigen immediately stopped laughing.

"I thought you said you planned for everything," he said. "Why didn't you mention Machii had a freakin' samurai guarding the place?"

"How was I supposed to know?" Lupin said defensively. "I mean, who has a back-up plan for being attacked by the mark's samurai friend? And, besides, the plan worked."

"All right, then," Jigen said. "Let's take a look at this data we went through all this trouble for."

Lupin grinned as he reached into the pocket of his dinner jacket. Then his grin disappeared. His finger went all the way through the pocket.

"Uh-oh."

"_Uh-oh_ what? You didn't check for holes in your pocket before you stashed the loot?"

"There wasn't a hole in this pocket when I stashed it."

* * *

Goemon Ishikawa XIII was in his private quarters, sitting cross-legged before his Buddhist shrine, sweet-smelling incense burning all around him. He didn't move when Machii burst in, Vitti at one side and another bodyguard at the other.

"Have you forgotten what my father did for your father?" Machii shouted. "My father saved your father's life. You swore to me that meant we had a blood oath, that your family would be in debt to mine for generations."

Goemon still did not respond, so Machii raised his voice louder.

"You let a couple of petty crooks walk away from _my_ building with _my _property. _You_ have failed _me_, and now _you_ . . ."

Finally, Goemon moved. He didn't open his eyes. He showed no expression. But he tossed an object over his shoulder straight at Machii, who managed to catch it before it hit the floor.

It was a flash drive. The flash drive that had fallen in the garden when Zantetsuken made a small incision in the bottom of one of the intruders' jacket pockets.

"Now may I return to my meditation?"

Machii and his men turned silently and left the room.

* * *

Lupin was still examining the hole in his pocket when Fujiko walked in. She tackled Lupin on to the bed, rolled underneath him, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

"Let me see it," she whispered.

"Don't you think we should get to know each other a little bit first?" the love-drunk Lupin slurred. "And, I mean, Jigen's _right _over there."

"Not _that_," Fujiko said. "I meant Machii's piece of the Asimov Project."

"Oh, _that,_" Lupin said, moving his lips closer to Fujiko's for another kiss. "I don't have it."

Fujiko pushed him away and then slapped him.

"How dare you!" She sat up and readjusted her top. "Trying to take advantage of me like that. What type of girl do you think I am?"

"But I . . . But you . . . But . . ."

Lupin looked from Fujiko to Jigen in confusion. Jigen's amused expression just said he wasn't going to give Lupin any help on this one.

"You told me you wanted me to help you steal the Asimov Project. Now I find out you were trying to use me all this time and you didn't even get it?" She scooted to the other end of the bed.

"But we will!" Lupin said, sliding closer to her. "I already have a plan to get it back. Machii is flying to Boston, to see Benjamina Carson about her portion of the project. He'll be keeping that flashdrive with him at all times now, so we'll just steal his data on the way to stealing hers!"

"Well," Fujiko said, her voice still filled with disdain, "you can tell me all about that in the morning. In the meantime, you two had better get out of here." She sprawled out on the bed. "I need my beauty sleep, and I don't want anyone to be able to question my virtue."

"Come on," Jigen said, leading a disappointed Lupin away from Fujiko. "The couch is a pull-out bed. Hope you don't snore."

* * *

_**Lupin's Note - There's an old saying: "If at first you don't succeed . . . maybe you shouldn't try sky diving." Solid advice that I'll be completely ignoring in our next chapter. There'll be high-flying feats and hijinks galore, and you can bet I'll try to talk Fujiko into joining**_** The Mile Heist Club_. See ya then!_**__


	6. The Mile Heist Club

_Disclaimer - Despite my growing collection of Lupin III merchandise, I still do not legally own the rights to Lupin III or any related characters. This is just the way I envision Monkey Punch's characters._

**True-angel7 - _Thank you for your review! I'm glad you're still reading this. It gave me some extra motivation to hurry up and write another chapter. _**

* * *

The two members of Fumio Machii's personal team of flight attendants that Lupin and Jigen managed to corner resembled them well enough.

One seemed partial to the same chin curtain style beard as Jigen. The other's facial hair, on the other hand, wasn't exactly identical to Lupin's, consisting of a thin mustache in addition to the long sideburns. A false mustache from Lupin's disguise kit fixed that. The men's outfits fit Lupin and Jigen well enough, a little too large to be exactly perfect, but that fit in just fine with Lupin's plan. With their caps pulled low to draw attention away from their faces, Lupin and Jigen left Machii's flight attendants unconscious, undressed, and bound and gagged.

Fujiko's disguise wasn't quite as perfect, being a costume she'd purchased rather than a uniform she ripped off an unconscious victim, but she didn't seem to be drawing too much attention at the airfield, other than the backward glances of men staring at her legs in her skirt as they made their way to their flights.

She had no problem seeing through the disguises.

"You'll be expecting to see us, so you'll be able to," Lupin had explained while outlining his plan. "Machii and everyone else on his private jet will be expecting to see the usual two members of the flight staff, so that's exactly who they'll see when they look at us."

"This wasn't so hard to slip past security," Fujiko said, handing Lupin a small vial. "Just like you said."

"Sure you won't come with us? Machii's private plane should be plenty luxurious."

"Can't. Machii's seen my face. There's no way he won't recognize it."

"We could put you in a wig."

Fujiko struck a flattering pose with her hand on her hip.

"There's still no way he'd forget this body."

Lupin looked her up and down, licking his lips.

"I suppose that's true."

Fujiko put a hand under his chin and forced his gaze back to eye level.

"See you boys in Boston."

She started to walk away. Lupin watched her hips sway from side to side.

"We still have a few minutes. Want to help fulfill my naughty flight attendant fantasies?"

Fujiko looked over her shoulder.

"Sorry, babe," she said. "In those fantasies, flight attendants never hook up with other flight attendants. Now, if you were a _pilot . . ._"

Lupin waited for her to walk from sight and then said, "Maybe if I take the pilot's place instead . . ."

"Forget it," Daisuke Jigen said. "Not part of the plan. Let's go."

* * *

On board Machii's jet, none of the other flight attendants questioned Lupin's or Jigen's presence. The two easily slipped into the routines the rest of the attendants were performing, waiting on Machii and his squad of bodyguards. They avoided speaking as much as possible, preferring to answer anyone's questions with nods and gestures.

There were awkward moments during the flight, but whenever another attendant tried to be friendly during the rare moments they weren't kept busy, Lupin and Jigen were able to keep them at arm's length by coughing or clearing their throats.

Thirteen hours into the flight and Lupin finally approached Machii.

"Excuse me, Mr. Machii," he said, intentionally speaking in a lower voice than usual. "But the staff has a gift for you, to thank you for allowing us to serve you. Two bottles of 1963 Maclaffin Blue."

He showed Machii one of the bottles of single-malt scotch.

"If we could go ahead and pour for you and your men?"

Machii stared intensely at Lupin and the bottle for a second before finally nodding consent.

Lupin briskly made his way to the back of the plane, then stepped over the feet of the unconscious attendants he and Jigen had already drugged.

"Waste of good Scotch," Jigen said, shaking his head sadly.

"I thought of switching the bottles with some cheap stuff, but I can't risk Machii or any of his men turning out to be a connoisseur."

"Still, to waste a bottle on these lowlifes when it should be . . ."

"Enjoyed by two honest, hard-working lowlifes like us?"

That made Jigen chuckle a little bit.

The two prepared glasses of ice and pushed their beverage carts down the plane's aisle.

* * *

The men eagerly accepted their drinks. Except for one.

Goemon Ishikawa, still looking out-of-place in his samurai garb, pushed the proffered bottle away.

"I'll just stick to my herbal tea, thank you."

He swished the hot liquid in his ceramic cup.

"Sure?" Jigen asked, intentionally speaking in a voice higher than usual. "Fifty years old, single malt."

"Just the tea. _Thank you_."

After everyone had their glasses, Lupin and Jigen returned to the back of the plane.

"Now we wait. The drug should take effect within the next fifteen minutes."

"Our samurai friend might be a problem," Jigen said. "Refused to take a sip. We may have to . . ."

Lupin pushed aside the curtain enough for Jigen and himself to peak out into the cabin. Goemon's graceful, gliding strides were moving straight for the bathroom.

"Must have had too much tea."

* * *

When the door closed, Jigen moved to it and broke the handle off, then left the beverage cart in front of the door for good measure.

He and Lupin strolled down the aisle, stepping over the tumblers that had tumbled from the hands of Machii and his men when the drug took hold. There were splashes of liquor where lightweights hadn't been able to drain the whole glass before passing out, and ice cubes were melting on the floor.

Jigen paused to look at the man in the cream colored suit. That's when he noticed Vitti's glass was still full.

Slowly, the head tilted back, and a wicked grin crossed his face.

"Thought something might be up with the Scotch," he said. "Nice to see you again, Daisuke Jigen."

Vitti slowly stood up. Jigen quickly flicked his wrist.

A spring launched a hypodermic needle from the cuff of Jigen's sleeve, and the needle found its way into Vitti's neck.

"Good night, Vick."

It was filled with the same sleeping drug the expensive Scotch had been laced with. The same vial Fujiko had smuggled past airport security.

Machii had a row of seats to himself. Lupin shoved the unconscious body into the next seat and reached under the chair, finding a hidden foot locker. Pulling out his smart phone and finding his safecracking app again, Lupin listened carefully to the clicking of the combination dial while Jigen went to guard the bathroom door.

Finally, the lock clicked open and Lupin removed his headphones. When he opened the locker he found . . .

Absolutely nothing.

Lupin looked at the sleeping Machii again, and this time he noticed that the goatee seemed to be folding back on itself. He tugged at one corner and the entire beard came off in his hand.

"It's a lookalike."

"What?" Jigen responded from his spot in front of the bathroom door.

"This guy's no more Fumio Machii than we are his flight attendants. Now I really do feel like we wasted that Scotch."

A victorious chuckle came from the front of the plane.

"Got you now, you little weasel."

Lupin turned towards the voice in surprise.

"Zenigata?"

"In the flesh."

The steely gray eyes and lantern chin were moving closer to Lupin, who bounced to his feet.

Lupin smiled gamely.

"You really think you can keep up with me, Old Man? I mean, you're practically old enough to be my Pops."

The pair of handcuffs seemed to come out of nowhere, one bracelet swinging around the tip of Zenigata's finger, making a silvery tinkling sound.

"You might as well give it up. I've got a small army of police officers all ready for you as soon as you get off the plane at the Boston airport."

"Good thinking, Inspector," Lupin said, stepping closer to the plane's hatch. "There's just one problem with your plan. I'm not getting off at the Boston airport."

He removed the jacket of his flight attendant uniform, revealing the parachute on his back.

Then he opened the hatch and dived.

Zenigata stepped back, got a running start, and then pounced, tackling Lupin in midair.

"Hey! Are you crazy?" Lupin shouted.

The only response was a fire burning in Zenigata's eyes.

* * *

Meanwhile, Jigen was leaning against the serving cart blocking the bathroom door with the broken handle, even as Goemon pounded on the door, rocking it against his back.

Then there was a lound splintering sound. Jigen jumped away as the blade of Goemon's sword slid through the door.

Goemon stuck his face through the new cut.

"You have once again made me cut something trivial!"

Jigen continued to back away as Goemon's face disappeared. The blade swiftly flew up and down through the door, and then both the door and the cart in front of it fell to pieces.

Goemon stepped from the restroom, face nearly red with anger, his sword still drawn.

"Any chance we can just talk this one out?" Jigen pleaded.

Goemon charged.

* * *

Lupin and Inspector Zenigata were wrestling while hurtling towards the ground, Zenigata's fingers digging into Lupin's shoulders, his eyes locked onto the thief's face. Lupin himself was scanning the sky ahead. They were moving towards a dense tangle of tall pine trees.

Lupin twisted in the air as Zenigata smacked into one of the pine branches.

He felt conflicting feelings of fear and concern when he lost sight of the Inspector, but then he saw Zenigata climbing on top of one of the branches.

The Inspector scurried through the branches like some kind of squirrel, (_More like a nut_, Lupin thought) then paused for only a second standing on top of a branch before getting another running start and leaping to a branch on the next tree.

Lupin was falling by as Zenigata leaped from another tree branch, catching Lupin in the air again.

* * *

Jigen dived between two rows of empty seats, seconds before Goemon's blade sliced the row behind him into pieces. As he rolled to another row across the aisle, he heard a grunt, and Goemon's blade passed just above his nose, slicing the two rows of seats he was hiding in between.

Jigen jumped up quickly, standing on top of another seat and then running across the tops of chairs as Goemon cut them down. He jumped across the aisle again, landing over one of Machii's unconscious men.

Another blow from the Zantetsu blade, and the three men in the aisle, and Jigen, collapsed, seatless but unharmed. There was a rip in the jacket of Jigen's flight attendant disguise.

Jigen tore the rest of the jacket off from the rip, revealing his own parachute to Goemon as he scrambled to the hatch and dived.

He watched Goemon as he dove, the samurai's kimono fluttering in the turbulent air.

* * *

"Let go of me! You've got to let go of me!" Lupin insisted.

They were plummeting with Zenigata's arms wrapped tightly around Lupin's chest, pinning his arms to his side, both twisting their bodies to try to miss the pine branches they were crashing through.

"No way! I finally got you right where I want you."

"Not afraid of heights, then, are you?"

"I'm terrified. It really helps when you don't look down."

"I just need one arm free. To pull the chute cord. Or we'll both splatter."

Zenigata growled, but then slid one hand up to Lupin's shoulder.

"All right. But don't try anything funny."

"Not in a funny mood right now."

Lupin pulled the chord. The parachute billowed beautifully above them. And then the spring on Lupin's wrist plunged the needle into Zenigata's arm.

Lupin quickly hooked his arms under Zenigata's before the Inspector could drop away from him.

"At least not a _ha-ha _funny," he said, gritting his teeth as he struggled to hold onto Zenigata's dead weight.

* * *

They landed softly, but not quite pleasantly, in the back of a parked manure truck.

Lupin laid Zenigata out in a reclining position on top of the stinky mound.

"Sweet dreams, sweet prince."

He jumped down just as Jigen appeared in their getaway car.

"How was your landing?"

Lupin shed the parachute, and was anxious to do the same for the rest of his disguise.

"It kinda stunk."

* * *

**Lupin's Note - _I hate getting pie in my face. Even if it is world famous Boston cream pie. Makes it kind of hard to see who your friends and enemies are, as I'll find out in "Zenigata-Da-Vida, Baby!" See you then._**


End file.
